


Net Zero

by FromAnonymousToZ



Category: Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics), math - Fandom
Genre: A big mathmatical fuck you to soulmates, But its a standalone, Just the concept of net zero, M/M, Net Zero, Riddle me that, Soulmate AU, Soulmates, The Beast asking questions that concern enoch, The mathmatical concept, Theres no actual math in this fic, This actually could fit in my weird political saga, What is a soulmate, but not at all, its not really an au, not really - Freeform, soulmates but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:41:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,223
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25114801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FromAnonymousToZ/pseuds/FromAnonymousToZ
Summary: “Are we soulmates?”To say its an odd question coming from the Beast  would be an understatement.The Beast who scoffs at mortals and their love and companionship, the Beast who treats alliances as things to be determined based on logic rather than emotion. It’s strange to hear something so... so oddly sentimental come from the Beast’s lips.
Relationships: The Beast/Enoch (Over the Garden Wall)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43





	Net Zero

“Are we soulmates?” 

To say its an odd question coming from the Beast would be an understatement.

The Beast who scoffs at mortals and their love and companionship, the Beast who treats alliances as things to be determined based on logic rather than emotion. It’s strange to hear something so... so oddly sentimental come from the Beast’s lips.

It blind sights him so badly he flounders for a solid few seconds, torn between asking if the Beast was feeling well and checking the cat skin’s hearing.

He knows he must reek of confusion and worry but he shoulders on and tries to come up with something,  _ anything _ , that was a suitable answer to such a question.

“Do we have souls?” Enoch counters.

Perhaps this is one of the Beast’s philosophical moods, perhaps he wants to speak of the meaning of mortal life and the worth of souls. Enoch has always enjoyed these evenings. They allow him to pick apart the wickedly delightful mind of the normally closed-off Beast.

The Beast chuckles hollowly at that.

“I do. It burns in the lantern.” They continue their walk, on opposite sides of Pottsfeild’s fence. Evidently, the Beast isn't feeling up to stepping into Enoch’s web this evening. “And yours is so thick on the earth it chokes me.”

Enoch hums, desperately trying to maintain his composure.

“Why do you ask, Hope Eater?”

That draws a pensive silence from the Beast.

When he at last speaks, his words are measured and carefully chosen.

“There was a mathematician, many years ago, who spoke of love.”

“Is he burning in the lantern right now?” Enoch prods. “Is that why you are thinking of him?”

The Beast chuckles, an oddly warm thing for something born in the throngs of winter.

“Perhaps.” Ah, that explained that at the very least.

Silence, save Enoch’s soft footfalls, lingers between them as Enoch waits for the Beast to elaborate.

“He spoke of numbers in a very strange way. He said there was no number more suited to 7 than -7.” Suddenly the Beast’s voice changed pitch and timbre as if he was mimicking the man. “They are two halves of a whole, when they meet there is nothing that remains. They are perfectly made for each other. When they meet at zero they meet halfway.” Enoch is sure it is a very impressive mimicry, though he’s never met the poor mathematician.

What a lucky creature, to still be on the mind of the Beast years later. Enoch almost envies him.

Its a humorous thought, a wandering mathematician, probably at death’s door, trying to explain love to the Beast of all creatures, with numbers.

Enoch remains silent, trying to keep the mirth from his scent as the Beast’s voice fades back into his own.

“He was drunk.” The Beast notes dryly.

“I could tell.” Enoch purred trying to keep the humor from his voice.

“He told me this as he became one with my forest.”

“Yes.” Enoch murmurs, softly, worried his levity might stain his tone.

The Beast’s eyes flash brilliant yellows and reds.

“Harvest Lord, do not mock me as I stand here before you. Have the courtesy to do it behind my back.” The Beast snarls.

“It’s not that, dear,” Enoch quickly soothes with a purr. “I am simply trying to imagine you listening to the folly of a drunken mathematician, and you must admit it is strange that his words have stayed with you to this day when the begging of so many others fails to faze you.”

The Beast makes a frustrated noise.

When he speaks again his voice is taught.

“He claimed that every pair of numbers that were net zero when added together were made for one another. They complete each other, not by building upon the whole or removing from one another, but by fitting so perfectly, there is nothing left over.”

The Beast turned his head, his luminous eyes falling upon Enoch.

“We are net zero.” He says at last.

That at least explains why the Beast asked him.

Oh, this is intriguing.

Enoch can perhaps see how such a thing could have struck a nerve with the Beast, especially when one considered their unique arrangement.

Better to hear it directly from the dog’s mouth, though.

“And how do you figure that, Voice of Night?” He presses.

The Beast makes an annoyed gesticulation with his hands.

“Where you are whole I am empty. Where you are content I am hungry.”

They have stopped their meandering path along the fences and the Beast has come to a full stop, turning to face him.

“Where you are a blazing wildfire, hot and bone dry, I am a blizzard, cold, and wet. You are an eternal grave and I an eternal life. You are contentment and ease and I am hunger and fear.”

The Beast is working himself up now, eyes drowning in color, his tone growing sharper with each word.

“Where you are rot and blood I am preservation and oil. You are a hazy autumn day and I am a crisp winter night.” His voice crescendos, and when he speaks again, it is softer.

“We are a contradiction, Harvest Lord.” He snaps. “We are not meant to coexist as we do, we are meant to clash, to be at opposition to one another.”

The winter warden suddenly goes very still and his eyes fade to a pale white.

“If we were ever to meet.” His voice has lost its edge, simply a strange resignation, but dangerous all the same. “Truly meet, you and I, there would be nothing left.”

He shakes his head.

“We would consume and fill and burn and freeze until we could take and give no longer. There would be nothing left of us. We have always been doomed to be the downfall of each other, since the time we formed ourselves. Inadvertently, perhaps, but all the same, we have become diametrically opposed.”

The Beast goes quiet, and Enoch lets him mull through his thoughts.

“Are we soulmates?” The Beast asks again.

“No.” Enoch murmurs at last. “I’m afraid your mathematician was flawed in his explanation. Soulmates are one in the same, cut from the same cloth. They are the same in all the ways that matter.”

“We are not soulmates.” The Beast says and hums. 

Whatever his opinion on the matter, he chooses not to indulge Enoch by telling him.

“No, we are not.” Enoch’s tail flicks. “But we are net zero.”

The Beast’s eyes flash curiously at that and Enoch continues.

“Isn't it much more poetic, two beings, who could very well destroy each other. Who would and will be the end of each other, choosing to put that aside, to coexist? Teetering on the brink of abyss, but choosing not to take the plunge, purely for sake of enjoying the company of one another. To stand in delicate balance with one another, always circling and drawing as close as they dare without destroying each other.” Enoch licked a stripe down his paws. “Why, I’d say that’s a positively romantic notion.”

The Beast turns to gaze out over the forest, eyes and posture unreadable.

“Perhaps.” He murmurs and the word drifts softly out over rolling fields and weaves between twisted trees.

And Enoch grins.

Net Zero.

He rather likes the sound of that.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, sometimes I really wish I had been watching OTGW when it came out. Maybe then I would have been in the mix of it when people were still posting Beastnoch. Now I just sort of feel like it passed me by or I showed up 2 years late to a party. 
> 
> But hey, who knows, If I had been around then and there had been a stream of posts and stories about it maybe I wouldn't have been motivated to write these stories. 
> 
> I don't know. 
> 
> I just feel like I'm reading the same 30 stories over and over and occasionally wrestling the tumblr algorithm into showing me something I haven't seen yet. 
> 
> I don't regret writing my beastnoch stories, and I intent to keep this little ship afloat, I don't even know my point. Its not like its lonely, I recognize those of you who kudos or bookmark my stuff and comment (Thank you all), its just something I've never experienced before.
> 
> Anyway, whatever, 
> 
> Can you tell I came up with the concept of this at 2 AM? Yeah apparently loopy tired Anon's best story ideas are: Math, but soulmates and Haha, potted plant x balloon.


End file.
